by Alan Scott
“As did everyone, but apparently not.”
“But that means that he has managed to return in only ten years instead of at least a thousand!”
“So it seems.”
“Blimey!”
“Yes, blimey, indeed.”
“Are you sure it’s him?”
“Your sister is sure.”
“Oh, I bet Leviathan is not a happy person,” half-laughed Lucas.
“No, he is not; hence, your sister’s event.”
“You have yet to tell me what the event is, Father.”
“Your sister, Oceania, being a practical woman, has said that the Kraken and the Leviathan will fight to true death and the winner shall be her husband.”
“That’s a bit brutal; mind you, Oceania always did have a vicious streak in her.”
“Something, sadly, my sons lack, and don’t bloody apologise, Lucas.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I have a prior engagement that day so I need you to attend in my place.”
“Yes, Father, though I am surprised you are not sending young Kimberley.”
“She has more important things to do.”
“Ah.”
Jacob Pace took a report from his in-tray and settled down to read it. After ten minutes, he looked up at his son. “Please don’t let me delay you, and don’t slam the door when you leave.”
“Yes, Father.” With that, Lucas made his way out of the room, being overly careful when shutting the door.
As soon as his son had left the room, Jacob Pace called out with his mind, “My lord, we need to talk.”
“Attend me in half an hour,” replied Lord D’Edlup, Emperor of the Eternal Forest and Lord of those across the sea.
“Yes, my lord.”
***
Lucas Pace smiled as he closed the door to his father’s office. Whistling a merry tune, he made his way out of the small building and into the walled garden. Kimberley Pace sat on a swing seat near the bubbling fountain, reading under a parasol.
“Hello, my favourite niece,” called out Lucas.
Kimberly looked up from her book. “Hello, Uncle.”
“What are you reading? A romance? Surely not one of those dirty sexy books that pretend to be romantic because they are written by a female author. If so, can I have a read?”
“Uncle!”
“What? Budge over,” replied Lucas as he sat down. Kimberly gave him an evil stare. Lucas smiled in return whilst studying Kimberley. She was so much like her mother – the red hair, her face - though she did have Solomon’s green eyes.
“You look sad, Uncle.”
“No.” Lucas shook his head.
“You were thinking about my mother and father.”
“Well, maybe...”
“I know you were.”
“You do look a lot like your mother.”
“So people tell me. I just thank my lucky stars that I do not take after that idiot father of mine.”
“Kimberley,” lightly scolded Lucas.
“He was a fool and a failure.”
“That is your grandfather talking.”
Kimberley’s eyes lit up with fanatical devotion. “My grandfather is a great man who holds a very important position, unlike the loser father of mine.”
“Yes, he does,” said Lucas, nodding slowly. “Solomon was also great, in his own way.”
“Rubbish,” dismissed Kimberley. “He was a loser and he paid the price.” Looking critically at her uncle, she asked, “Why do you always do your best to upset Grandfather, Uncle Lucas?”
“I don’t.”
“Other people might believe that, but I don’t.” Kimberley narrowed her eyes. “I sometimes think that the only reason you became a healer was to make Grandfather upset.”
“The only reason I became a healer was because my father told me to become one.”
Kimberley’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“You are still young, Kimberley; do not think that you know everything,” Lucas gently scolded. “The past is a foreign country to you, and you only know a small fraction of what happened there.”
“I stand corrected, Uncle,” Kimberley stated in a cold voice.
“It’s too nice a day to fight, Kimberley,” laughed Lucas, raising his eyes up to the cloudless deep-blue skies. “Let’s not fight, eh?”
“First you make fun of Grandfather, and then you scold me, then you say we are not to fight. What are you like?”
Lucas’ body and face shimmered a second as he transformed himself into a stunningly handsome man the same age as Kimberley. “Why, I am anything people want me to be.”
“Uncle!” smiled Kimberley.
“That’s better,” said Lucas. “No matter what, I can still make my favourite niece smile.”
“That is true; now, turn back, please.”
Once again, Lucas’ body and face shimmered and he returned to his true self.
Kimberley reached out and gently touched his face. “You are a fool and an idiot.”
“I know.”
“But I am glad that I know you.” Kimberley removed her hand.
“Really!” said a shocked Lucas.
“Yes.”
“That is so unlike my father.”
“I know. I am still not as strong as he is... not yet.”
“And I dread the day when you become him.”
“And I look forward to that day with all my heart, Uncle.”
“So what has the old coffin dodger got you doing lately?”
Kimberley sighed, dramatically. “Grandfather is not an old coffin dodger. He is a great man.”
“Ok, then what has my father got you doing lately? Happy with that?”
“Yes, and I am not allowed to tell you.”
“Why?” asked a puzzled Lucas.
“He has banned me from discussing it with anyone.”
“Even family?”
“Especially you.”
“I never said...”
“No, but Grandfather did.”
“Oh. Oh, well, as much as I would like to stay and chat, dear niece,” Lucas stood up and bowed to his niece, “I need to go and see your aunt. I just wanted to say hello while I was here.”
“Why are you seeing Aunt Oceania?”
“I’m not allowed to tell. It’s top secret.” Lucas stuck out his tongue.
Despite herself, Kimberly laughed. “Ah, I shall not push you on the subject, then; instead, I will say goodbye.”
“Farwell, Niece.”
Kimberley watched carefully as her uncle left the garden, before picking up her book and continuing reading from where she had stopped. The smiling face which she had put on for her uncle slowly fell away to be replaced by the one the world normally saw – cold, neutral, and totally detached.
***
Far away across the seas and sand
The dry arid breeze ruffled the tattered silk curtains, which hung from one of the numerous open windows, making its way from the baking hot desert and into the vast stone-pillared chamber. Slowly dying as it made its way through the room, the breeze expended the last of its energy to caress the unfeeling fingerbones of Lord Skeal as he sat unmoving on his highly carved stone throne.
Lord Skeal was truly a creature from nightmares, a giant skeletal figure wearing thick robes of deep purple and black. A simple, gleaming, golden crown adorned his ancient yellowed skull. Black ghostly fire danced and flickered in his eye sockets, which gazed down at the unchanging vista of his throne room.
On either side of the central isle stood rows of undead warriors, each one armed with rusting weapons and shields, standing patiently and eternally to attention. Behind them, in the deep black shadows, other creatures – far more dangerous creatures – slept away the centuries, awaiting the call of their lord and master, awaiting the call to battle.
In the blistering heat and deafening silence, Lord Skeal – one of the four Death Lords of the land beyond the sands – listened as tormented souls wh
ispered their reports on what was happening in the world. Again and again, the same words were turning up.
“...Midnight Man...”
“...Prophecy...”
“...Mancer...”
“...Death of a God...”
“...Chaos...”
Lord Skeal pondered long on what he was hearing before calling out with his mind, “Master.”
“Yes,” came the instant reply from Lord Holc, Emperor of the Eternal Desert, Lord of those across the sand. The single word raked across Skeal’s mind, causing the Death Lord to hesitate for a fraction of a second, as long forgotten feelings of pain momentarily reasserted themselves. “We need to talk, Master.”
“Then talk.”
Again, pain filled Skeal’s mind. “Yes, Master...”
***
Two weeks later on an island on the other side of the world
Storyteller sat under the palm tree with his hands behind his head and watched a solitary white cloud make its way through a perfect blue sky, as the warm yellow sun shined down on the crystal clear waters of the ocean.
Totally content, Storyteller was planning to spend the next few happy hours there when the tranquillity was broken. “Ah, there you are, Storyteller,” a woman’s scolding voice called out.
“Damn,” Storyteller quietly swore. “Hello, Abigail.”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Enjoying myself?”
“Were,” added Abigail. “You were enjoying yourself, because you seem to have forgotten about Cameron. Where is he, and why aren’t you, Owen, and Ellis looking for him?”
Storyteller stood up and brushed himself down. “Abigail, Cameron is a man now. He does not need me to take care of him...”
“But...”
“No buts, Abigail. He is a man.”
“Yes, I know; however, he is a gentle person. He needs protected.”
“He needs toughening up. Considering who his father is...”
“Stop right there, Storyteller. His father abandoned us, here on this wretched island. Don’t you dare bring his name into it.”
“I was just saying...”
“Well, don’t.”
Storyteller looked at Abigail’s determined face and sighed heavily. “It’s too nice a day for this fight. Let’s not.”
“I, too, would prefer not to fight; however, I want my son found to make sure that he is safe.”
“I’ll send a call out to Owen and Ellis, and get them to track him down.”
“Thank you,” said Abigail and turned to look at the sea.
Storyteller looked down at the pure white sand and sadly shook his head. He knew in his heart that Dark Storm – aka, Jack Rothgal, elder brother to Queen Rebecca Rothgal – had done the right thing by sending his son to a tropical island on the far side of the world, far from the continent of Talocants. Why couldn’t Abigail see that, if Cameron had stayed, he would have been killed? Instead, she only saw it as a mass betrayal, and had, for the last eighteen-odd years, mothered the boy terribly, whilst trying to find a way back to Talocants.
“Storyteller!” called out Abigail.
“I am just about to contact them, Abigail.”
“Never mind that. Look at this.”
“What...” Storyteller left his sentence unfinished as he made his way to stand by Abigail and saw what she was seeing.
“Storyteller, why has the sea suddenly receded so far back?”
“I... I... don’t know, Abigail.”
***
Cameron Rothgal sat on the fallen tree trunk and looked around the clearing for the hundredth time. “Where is she?” he wondered to himself as he scanned the clearing again. “She promised she would be here,” he whispered, angrily.
“And I keep my promises, Cameron,” said a female voice from behind him.
Cameron spun around and grinned foolishly as he saw his angel with green eyes and red hair. “Hello, Kimberley.”
Kimberley Pace smiled a radiant smile and asked, “Don’t I get a kiss?”
Cameron stood up, took the beautiful woman in his arms, and kissed her delicately on the lips. “Oh, I have missed you!” he declared.
“And I have missed you.”
Taking Kimberley’s hand he led her back to the fallen tree trunk where they both sat down. “I wish we did not have to keep this secret,” said Cameron as he gave Kimberley’s hand a squeeze.
“Now, Cameron, you know why we have to keep our love a secret. We have been through this a hundred times.”
“I know, and you are right; my mum would never understand. She has never loved the way we love each other.”
“She would hate me for being a slightly older woman and for stealing her boy from her.”
“I am a man.”
“Of course you are, Cameron.”
“I AM!”
“Then prove it,” encouraged Kimberley.
Cameron reached out and grabbed a handful of Kimberley’s hair with his right hand, and, using it, brought her mouth towards his. He kissed her slowly and tenderly at first, but as the passion grew, so did his kisses. His left hand made its way up from her hip, along her side, and onto her left breast, which he squeezed, gently.
Kimberly moved her head and Cameron immediately started to kiss her neck and nibble her ear. “I want you,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to strip you naked and take you right here.”
“Do you really?” replied Kimberley.
“Oh, yes.”
Standing up and pushing the passionate Cameron away, Kimberley stood before him. “So you want me naked, do you?”
“Oh, yes.”
“So if I removed my shirt, you would like that?”
“Oh, yes.”
Kimberly smiled sexily and looked up into the trees for a moment before returning her gaze to Cameron. “Well,” she began as she moved slightly closer to Cameron, “I had better do that then.”
“Oh, yes,” said Cameron, eagerly.
“Unlucky,” said Kimberley.
“What...” started Cameron, before Kimberley’s fist smashed into his face, knocking him out and over the fallen tree where he was sitting.
As she stepped over the tree trunk, the tops of the trees surrounding the clearing started to visibly sway and small drops of rain could be felt on the increasingly strengthening wind. Kimberley grabbed Cameron by the collar, opened a shadow-door, and stepped through, dragging the unconscious teenager with her.
***
“This is not good,” said Storyteller as he watched the sky darken with heavy ponderous rain clouds. The wind was becoming stronger and spots of rain were starting to fall from the heavens.
“Cameron! I must find Cameron,” said Abigail as she turned away from the sea and started to make her way inshore.
“Yes, you must,” agreed Storyteller. He started to follow her whilst keeping one eye on the ocean.
“Cameron!” shouted out Abigail. “Cameron!”
“Oh, Fuck! RUN!” shouted Storyteller as he grabbed Abigail’s arm.
“What is it?” asked Abigail, half-turning. “Oh, no!” she mouthed at the sight she saw. The sea was rushing back towards the shore, and behind it was a huge wall of water - thirty, if not forty, foot high. Shaking off Storyteller, Abigail raced inshore, looking around frantically. “Cameron! CAMERON!”
The wind, by now, was gale force and the rain was pelting down. Storyteller was struggling to reach the tree line that bordered the beach.
“Storyteller, what the fuck is happening?” Owen’s voice sounded in Storyteller’s head. “The villagers are going mad and running away!”
“There is a huge wave heading for the shore. You and Ellis need to run!”
“Have you got Cameron?”
“No.”
“Damn. Where is Abigail?”
“She is trying to find Cameron.”
Storyteller finally made the edge of the trees and cast a quick glance behind him. “Oh shit,” he whispered as he saw the g
igantic wave closing in on the shore. “Owen!” he called out with his mind. “Owen, change into Dev’ver now. It’s you and Ellis’s only hope of survival. Do it now.” Storyteller’s voice was unnaturally calm.
“What about you?”
Storyteller watched the huge solid wall of water as it rushed towards him. “In all probability, it’s too late for me. Goodbye.” Storyteller squared his shoulders and started the change. The wave blocked out the sun and crashed down upon him.
“CAMERON! CAMERON!” screamed Abigail as she frantically raced through the violently swaying trees. She scraped her rain-sodden hair from her face as she called out again. “CAMERON! CAMERON!”
It was then that the world went black. Half-turning, Abigail saw the mighty wave start to crash down on her. “Cameron, I love you,” she managed to whisper before she was engulfed by the turbulent waters.
***
Kimberly Pace exited the shadow-door and entered her grandfather’s office, dragging the still unconscious Cameron behind her. She moved to stand in front of Jacob Pace’s desk.
“Ah,” said her grandfather, “you have done well, Kimberley.”
“Thank you, Grandfather.”
“Was it easy?”
“Yes, Grandfather. After the last few weeks of our secret meetings, he was like a little puppy.”
“It is very difficult for a young man to resist a beautiful woman, especially if there is a hint of excitement and danger around.”
Cameron moaned and moved his head. Kimberley swiftly kicked him in the head, knocking him out cold once again. Her grandfather raised an eyebrow.
“He is soft and weak.”
“Yes, he is.” Jacob slowly drummed the fingers of his right hand on his desk. “To think this... boy, is the son of a Ver.” Jacob shook his head, disapprovingly. “Anyway, our plan has worked. We now have Cameron Rothgal in our care, and no one will know, due to the tsunami caused by Kraken and Leviathan’s duel, as it has wiped all life from that island.”